For journalist Cathy Newman, a love of music informs the rhythm of live broadcasting and political interviewing, finds Michael Hayman in his latest column for Country and Town House
You might raise an eyebrow to hear that Cathy Newman is on the fiddle – but in this instance it’s not a scandal, it’s a symphony.
Newman is best known for her incisive political interviews on Channel 4 News and for her investigative journalism. This year, she won the Woman of the Year award from Women in Journalism UK for her work on the historic sexual abuse of children by British barrister John Smyth – the investigation that resulted in Justin Welby’s resignation as Archbishop of Canterbury.
When Newman and I meet, it is me who takes the interviewer’s chair as she joins me for the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra’s Journeys of Discovery podcast – and from the start, it’s clear music isn’t just part of her story; it is a thread running through it. ‘I’ve never regretted playing the violin,’ she says. ‘It’s portable, it’s unaccompanied, it becomes part of you.’
Her relationship with music began in childhood during a bout of chickenpox, when her father, a chemistry teacher, brought home a spare school violin. ‘It was totally random but I just loved it.’
That early spark never faded. Though journalism became her stage, music never left the wings. And she draws a direct line between the two. ‘There’s a rhythm to interviewing,’ she said. ‘You listen, you anticipate, you respond. It’s musical.’
Newman and I find common ground in this. I admit I go weepy at the sound of strings. ‘Some pieces carry memory,’ she nods, recalling how she couldn’t listen to Méditation from Thaïs for years after performing it at a university memorial service. In that moment, we weren’t interviewer and guest, just two people recognising the quiet emotional charge music can hold.
We meet at the Royal Albert Hall, one of the Philharmonic’s two London homes, the other being Cadogan Hall in Chelsea. Our room looks out across the streets and elegant architecture beyond, and as we speak, I find myself thinking about Dirk Bogarde’s Short Walk from Harrods. It’s a book I’ve always loved for its gentle but observant tone, clarity of thought and lived experience. Bogarde wrote about learning to ‘come to terms with the past, make peace with inner demons… become sensitive, caring human beings’. That line comes back to me, as it mirrors Newman’s drive to understand the world and change it.
Though she once auditioned for The Yehudi Menuhin School and dreamed of life as a professional musician, her path took a turn and journalism became the platform. Today, she plays in a quartet of political friends and champions wider access to music education through her work with Music for All. ‘Music used to be for everyone,’ she says. ‘Now, it’s a privilege. That’s heartbreaking.’
Just as Bogarde found space in Chelsea to reflect, absorb and live with greater feeling, Newman’s relationship with music feels like something quietly powerful – not a retreat, but a return. And like any great musician, she’s not done playing quite yet.